New Year's Eve Tangony
by Taliahah
Summary: Annie Walker is persuaded to toss aside her original New Year's Eve's plans to lend a hand - and, as it happens, an awkward foot, to a handsome Mossad agent.


Annie Walker sat on the arm of the couch and hoped that someone would refill her drink. And quickly. It was 9 pm on New Year's Eve and she had figured out about two hours ago that she had made the worst mistake in her life agreeing to come to this "fun, friendly New Year's Eve Party!" put on by Eric Barber. She really liked Barber and wanted to support his efforts in being less of a geek and a bit more social. Auggie was also gamely supporting his friend, but the array of other guests consisted entirely of other geeks who lacked even Barber's social finesse and who were occupying the couch while playing video games. Auggie ventured close to her, carefully, as he was well aware that the room was overcrowded with bowls of popcorn on the floor, spilled chips, and other bachelor detritus. To their shock, there was a sprinkling of geek girls dredged up from somewhere, who seemed to be mainly occupied with sending videos of each other via their cell phones. Auggie waved a beer somewhere in Annie's approximate direction.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"Only way we'll get through this. Friendship makes strange demands sometimes."

"You can say that again." Barber was already calling for Auggie to help do something in the kitchen. Auggie gave her a raised-eyebrows look and began heading back. At that moment, a sudden move on the video game couch sent Annie flying and her beer onto the carpet while the players were oblivious. Fortunately, Auggie was clear. In her tiny purse, her cell phone began to vibrate. She tried to towel herself all with the roll towels provided as napkins as she answered.

"Hello?"

"You must be busy, tonight of all nights. But I've got an emergency." She recognized the voice of Eyal Lavin.

"I am," she asserted, and tried to move away from the obvious video game noises.

"I have no right to ask this of you, but I'm desperate. My partner for the evening I just delivered to the hospital with a broken ankle. Not to put it too bluntly, I need a woman for a bit of action tonight."

"That's quite a line. Does it work often?"

There was an instant of exasperated silence. "You don't have to know anything, including whether or not this is "work" for me. But if I could possibly persuade you to lend me a couple of hours in a dancing dress and shoes, I would be forever grateful – and a life might hang in the balance."

"Eyal, you know I cannot help you with an operation on American soil."

"Precisely the reason I am not asking you to do so. _Fervently _not asking you to do so." Annie looked down at her dress, which was casual but nice, and now stinking of beer. She needed to change regardless.

"Damn!" Barber yelled. "I burned the popcorn!" The scent of burnt popcorn began penetrating her nostrils. Annie made a split second decision.

"My place, twenty minutes."

"I'll be there."

She made a quick farewell to Auggie and Barber, blaming her dress mishap. Auggie gave her a look – apologetic, a shrug in Barber's direction – he could not leave and abandon Barber, apparently to go find better fun with her. She looked regretful and exited.

Less than an hour later, Annie found herself sliding out of the front seat of a silver Jaguar. It was not Eyal's usual transportation, but she would not complain, and heading into a ballroom where a New Year's Eve dance contest was vigorously promoted.

"Not that I have any particular interest in doing so, but our best chance of speaking to the judges on the platform if we win this tango contest. Are you game?"

"You didn't tell me I'd have to be in a dance contest! I've never tangoed – "

"You've never needed to, until –" he said, dramatically grabbing her and twirling her into a tight body embrace, "Tonight!" They rushed to the sign up table, scribbling on the brief form and passing it over. Someone slapped numbers on them. "Listen. It's all attitude and tension, unfulfilled desires, unrequited love, passions pulled apart by forces beyond anyone's control . In short, it's a dance made for us. Speed and deliberateness. Lightness and darkness. Life and death. CIA and Mossad."

"I get to be fast, light, and lively?"

"What makes you think it breaks out that way?" He smiled. "But fast, light, and lovely you are. Think of yourself that way. When you get onto that floor, you are an Amazon queen, a goddess, a seductress who could not care less about her prey. I am the dark masculine other determined to overpower you. The dance is our struggle made visible."

"Our jihad," she noted acidly, for that was the meaning of the Arabic word.

"We can play this out as a terrorist conflict if that helps. We have to seize the drama. That may be our only edge," he commented, watching as another couple executed a perfect fast sequence as a few in the crowd applauded even before they finished. The following couple was only slightly less sure-footed. Eyal counted it out for her under his breath. "We'll stay very close, not ballroom style. You'll feel where to go." Annie felt the adrenalin rise and also an excitement that was separate from this being part of their mission tactics. Maybe she was the light and lively one because this was starting to feel fun, like taking a kayak through rapids. Quick maneuvers needing absolute control and perfect reflexes, interrupted by stillness.

"That's us!" Their operation names and couple number were called. He pinched her back, hard enough she'd expect a bruise, but it had the desired effect of making her stretch up, tighten her already-flat tummy, and spike out onto the dance floor, worthy of her Louboutins. He forced her into a pose, they froze for an instant before the music started, and he must have seen something in her eyes that he liked because his lips softened into the slightest of smiles. She winked at him, and they began. "You hate everything about me," he said, his throaty whisper almost inaudible as he pushed back against her.

"Yet there is an attraction I can deny, but cannot ignore." she responded, in kind. This was not so bad. Her body wanted to follow his lead and she was getting into it, taking some risks, flashing the red soles of her Louboutins.

And somehow, catching her heel in the crotch of his tuxedo pants. She tried to wiggle her foot away while he bent her backwards over his chest, hopefully concealing the problem. "It's stuck in my groin," he murmured tensely.

"I,uh, know…" she answered as he twisted her. He was not the only one in pain; her leg was not meant to work that way. She concentrated on keeping a triumphant, arrogant expression on her face, turning back towards him, then away, anything to keep some movement ; he gave her a slight lift, her foot came loose, in a brilliant move he managed – or perhaps in a desperate, pain-ridden move – managed to pull her shoe out of where it was lodged in his tux pants and toss it, as if intended, straight up, and then manage to catch it in his teeth as it fell, never missing a beat That garnered them some applause. Annie felt the bite on that spike, but in rhythm managed to snatch it from his mouth with a dramatic arm gesture and then use it to knock the heel against his chest as she pushed him backwards, for a moment taking full control. Except, she realized, she'd better get back up close and personal because there was a clear rip in those tux pants, showing what appeared to be bright white boxers. Well, they said they should keep close. Finally, the music ended. They would probably be in the running at least and even if they didn't win, that might be enough to get them to their targets before the night was over. They accepted their accolades and Eyal whispered seductively to her as they headed toward their table "Do you happen to have a sewing kit on you?" She smiled and gave a little laugh as if he had said something very intriguing indeed and reached for her little purse lying on the tabletop. "No, but I have duct tape in my purse."

"Really? I am very impressed. And if you could allow me to escort you out into the hallway … and if I may beg of you the favor of maintaining very close contact as we go…' She allowed him to press up against her. Apparently things had developed between them even further.

"Oh!"

"Sorry about this," he whispered.

"No need to apologize," she answered breathily in what she hoped was her sexiest voice.

"As you can tell, that tone of voice is _extremely _unhelpful."  
"Sorry. Couldn't resist." At least her heel had not done him any lasting damage.

They went down the hallway to the men's room entrance, where she pressed into his hand the small flat-pack of camping duct tape. It had helped her out of many a strange situation before but this was probably the most unique.

Eyal re-emerged. "All good?" she asked, sneaking a look. No white was showing at least.

"As long as I keep thinking of soccer scores, yes. Apparently your heel managed to locate a tender spot right along that pleasure-pain border."

"Border conflicts are one of my specialties."

"Indeed."

From the stage they heard "And the winners of the 14th annual New Year's Eve Dance contest at the Starshine Ballroom and Bistro are …. " and their names were called out. Annie slipped off her shoe and ran up, holding it high, smiling and laughing with apparently real joy. Eyal avoided too vigorous a stride, not entirely confident in his repair. He and Annie shook hands with the targets and Eyal presented his business card. There was hardly a flicker of surprise on the man's face as he accepted it, just enough for them to know the message was received. Eyal took charge of the trophy they were given and they picked up glasses of champagne for a toast. Their target, they noticed, was making an unobtrusive exit which would take him into the hands of his next pair of handlers.

"And now, it's time for the Countdown! 10 9-8…." They ran through the numbers, with a final explosion of "Happy New Year!" Their cover demanded a happy, especially triumphant kiss. _All for the job,_ Annie thought, and, perhaps unwisely, took advantage of the moment, feeling his sensuous soft lips, tasting his tongue, feeling his hands pressing her against him. Firmly against him. But the look in his eyes was not one of passion – well, not _entirely _one of passion – but more of alarm. He shifted her slightly more between him and the watching audience.

"Duct tape failure?"

"As if you didn't know, you little minx."

"No one's ever called me that before. I think I like "neshema" better."

"It's up to you to get us off this stage without me being arrested for indecent exposure, which would compromise our mission somewhat." She looked around. This New Year's Eve embrace and kiss could only go on so long and the situation was not necessarily getting better with time. A waiter with a tray brought by more champagne. Annie flailed out an arm to grab another glass, deliberately flipped the edge of the tray, soaked Eyal in champagne, and grabbed the bar towel off of the briefly-stunned waiter. "Oh honey, I am so sorry!" she screeched, making the most of a moment to intimately readjust that tape over the tear – not exactly made more adhesive after the champagne soaking - and stick the bar towel into Eyal's waistband. They then made their own emergency exit with appropriate apologies.

"Nicely done," he murmured as they raced away. "But I do think you owe me a new pair of pants."

"Wait a minute. I owe you? I have _tooth marks_ on my right Louboutin heel!"

"Which would not be there had you been in better control of said Louboutin heel. "

"I'm sorry, but I didn't expect to be dancing a competitive tango tonight!"

"So you admit that it was lack of preparation on your part. Thus, you buy the pants. Unless, of course…."

Don't ask, Annie. You know you should not ask.

"Unless what?"

"If you'd care to rip them off of me entirely, in a less crowded environment, say my hotel room, well that I could just put down to normal wear and tear. Happens all the time in those circumstances."

"So you wish!"

"Obviously, I will have to be more careful on the mental phrasing of my wishes in the future, apparently. This one seems to have gone a little wrong."

"Do you think?"

"Definitely," he said with a smile. "But the New Year is still young, neshema..." He frowned and touched his ear. Some concealed transmitter was obviously giving him disturbing news. Suddenly serious, he turned back to her. "Sorry about this. I've got to go." For a moment there was silence between them, then without knowing who was doing the reaching first, they found themselves entangled in a repeat of their very public midnight kiss. Except this time, they were the only two people around.

As with the beginning, she couldn't tell which of them succumbed to reality first, but there they were, broken apart. He brushed back a single tendril of her hair.

"I wish for you a very fortunate New Year," he said.

"And you as well."

"They say you should be doing at midnight what you want the coming year to bring more of. I can say that was true. For me at least, neshema."

She couldn't help it, she didn't want to completely give in - and yet. "You want me to make more tears in your clothing?"

He grinned, defeated. "Now that I know you always carry duct tape, why not?" He touched his ear again. She dropped his hand and watched as he raced away. Her shoe was a little uncomfortable and she bent to adjust it, feeling the ridge of marks on the back of its heel. She ran her finger over his teeth marks an extra time, smiled, pulled off both shoes and headed back to the entrance to hail a cab.


End file.
